


Acquisitions

by TaangyChocolate



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hell, soul acquisition au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-11-16 09:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaangyChocolate/pseuds/TaangyChocolate
Summary: What plans could be so important that he'd have to sell his soul to a demon? Let alone toher?





	1. Chapter 1

Letting nine drops of blood drip from his thumbs to the candles’ lit wicks, one Damian al Ghul crouched over his handiwork. The blood made the fires turn purple and he leaned back on his haunches, waiting to see if the deal was accepted.

Damian furrowed his brows as, not even a minute after the thought came to him, he watched the demoness rise from her pool of ashes, strands of smoke billowing off her. Her four eyes were dark and calculating, her pupils large blips of nothingness and her sclera red as blood. The demon tilted her head and bared her teeth at him, the jagged fangs sliding against each other. The sound would’ve sent a shiver down a weaker human’s spine, but Damian stayed firm.

The protective salt barrier did nothing and she stepped over it. Her steps sounded heavy on the floor, although she moved as lithe as any assassin. She circled Damian once and stopped in front of him. The swordsman tensed his jaw as the strands of smoke darkened, the inky tendrils of black magic snapping in the air between them.

After a moment, she leaned back and smirked. A quick flick of her hand had all the candles snuffing out and Damian noted how her form shifted in the sudden darkness. “Consider the deal done,” She drawled, her magic crackling loudly in the quiet of the room. The overhead lights clicked on a moment after and he blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness and her new form.

Two amethyst eyes and pale skin greeted the assassin as she stood to her full height, an inch or two taller than him. He ignored how surprisingly and distractingly attractive she was, instead focusing on how the dots of blood on his thumbs sizzled off into a puff of mulberry-colored smoke.

She held out a hand, suspiciously human and barren of the claws that had just adorned them, “You may call me Raven.”

Remembering his grandfather’s warning, Damian stooped down and rubbed the bloody candle-wax onto his palm before he shook the demoness’ hand. Any disappointment she had at his cautiousness was drowned out by how impressive he appeared. “Hmm,” Raven released his hand and casually walked around the room, running her fingers over the tapestries that hung on the walls, “You know to cover your palms and to keep weapons out of my line of sight, interesting that you’d need a demon’s help in _any_ endeavor.”

Violet hair shifted as she glanced at the young man over her shoulder, “Especially to the point of selling your soul.” Turning back around, she narrowed her eyes at the writing on the books’ spines, trying to decipher which Earth language it was, “Must be important.”

“I need you to do something for me,” Damian didn’t touch her, although he did motion for the demoness to walk towards the high table off to the side. “It cannot be done by mortals, unfortunately, no matter how powerful they are in the dark arts.”

Raven pitched forward as she took in the ancient inscriptions and tattered remnants of a _particular_ rune, one that her father had put an herculean amount of effort in containing until _just_ the right moment in time. An eager grin slid onto her face at the idea of disrupting Trigon’s carefully chaotic plans, the sight worrisome and _dangerous_ in the dark shadows of the room. 

“Perhaps I can do this … of course, only if you’d do something for me?” Her question was a demand and she rested her elbow on the counter, sticking her bottom out just a smidge. The assassin begrudgingly followed her movements, ensuring that she didn’t get close to any of the hidden weapons and that his eyes didn’t stray.

Still, he set his shoulders and stood in front of her, glaring at the crackles of black magic that seemed to slide off of her. A tendril slid out and hovered near where a shielded machete lay, considering the weapon. Without giving her time to react, Damian pounced, pinning her by her hips. He let the tip of his sword nick against her pulse, his other hand holding hers in place.

Raven paused, a brow raising at the movement. She smirked down at Damian, her eyes flicking from his lips to the blade on her throat and back again. In an instant, her teeth sharpened and she pitched forward, softly cooing as a thin trickle of blood ran down the blade, “I probably should have mentioned that soul acquisition is a two way street.”

His olive eyes narrowed and she smirked even wider, unconcerned with the drops of blood pooling at their feet, “You’re stuck with me and I with you, _Syd Damian_.” Damian’s force on the blade weakened at the title and Raven surged forward, stopping half an inch from his face. Her pale fingers wiped her blood off his sword as she brushed their noses together.

A sound rumbled in his chest, “I probably should have thought about the consequences of selling my soul first, then.”

The demoness chuckled, pressing their foreheads together and sidling up flush against his chest. Their eyes met despite the angle and she languidly stole a kiss off his lips, lightly biting his bottom lip when he jumped in surprise.

A low, raspy laugh escaped her and she ran her thumb over the edge of his blade again, “You really should’ve.”


	2. Chapter 2

Damian couldn’t keep the curiosity off his face as he stared at the sky.

The once silent hideout was bustling with heavy footsteps, assassins of many shapes and talents scurrying around to prepare themselves. The Justice League would track them, certainly. They had enough mystics to figure out where all this disarray originated, but no combination of heroes was powerful enough to contain its destructive power.

Of course, to hold in that much evil would take someone stronger than any mortal, born of the Earth or not. 

But the Justice League didn’t know that. His eyes flicked to Raven, watching as she tilted her head back and let the discord course through her. He watched how black lightning crackled over her skin and followed the trail up to the curve of her neck.

Turning back to the sky, he noted how the pockets of hellfire spread, sparks of interconnecting in the atmosphere like neurons in a brain. Honestly, he’d be impressed if the Justice League could even _approach_. But then again, the man who mother claimed to be his father would be a part of that crime-fighting brigade, maybe even leading them. A wicked grin split Damian’s lips at the thought; what better way to celebrate than beating the Bat into the ground?

Raven let out a growl.

Damian turned to her, watching as the crimson markings on her pale skin took over, staining her whole body red. Despite the snowy hair that brushed over her face, the demon focused all four eyes on him. Emerald eyes flicked from her eyes to her inky lips to the sky, watching as the fire seemed to spread as the atmosphere darkened with smoke.

In the wake of the fiery scene, the whole world seemed to be quiet, anticipating for when the dam would break and chaos would flood in. 

The demoness shuddered and stepped forward, planting herself next to him. Her four eyes became two and her skin reverted back, the pale contrasting against his skin as she rested her elbow on his shoulder. Raven turned her face, smiling at the swordsman, “Isn’t it beautifully chaotic, today?”

He raised a brow, but couldn’t keep the amused smirk off his face, “It’s _your_ doing, Demon.”

“Actually,” She slid forward and kissed below his ear, “It’s _our_ doing, _Syd Damian_.”

She grinned as his smirk widened, forcing his dimple to show. Careful of her fangs, Raven kissed that dimple and rested her weight against him. Together, they watched as the fire seemed to crackle through the black clouds, resembling a pad of steel wool set alight.

Amethyst eyes shut as a sudden, tightly woven mass of presences skirted the edge of her empathy. The demoness took in a deep breath and touched his hand, “The Justice League is almost here.”

Damian nodded, turning back to the door, “I expect you to keep the rune’s magic constant. I cannot afford any weakness, Raven.”

A hand on his arm made him pause and he turned to the woman, surprised by not unwilling for the firm kiss that she planted on his lips. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, his tan fingers digging into her hips.

“Do not let this distract you from our mission,” Damian grumbled against her lips. Raven let out a bark of laughter at his words, pulling away and letting all four eyes glow. The assassin ran a thumb over her lips and she kissed the pad of skin, “You of all people should know that destruction can be _quite_ attractive.”

“I thought the term was ‘beautifully chaotic’?” He quoted her, stealing another kiss as she smirked.

Her hands came up and cupped his chin, gleefully aware of how _easy_ it would be to snap his neck and painfully aware of how much she really didn’t want to kill him. Raven blamed the tiny bit of humanity in her, cursing the sentimentality that was causing her to be accustomed to his presence (and his kisses, although she would never admit that).

The demoness bit her lip, “Destroy every last one of those heroes, _Syd Damian_. I’ll deal with the magical reinforcements.”

He nodded and stalked to the door. Thinking better of the fight to be, Raven called to his back, “And finally kill that Bat Talia calls your father!” Damian didn’t respond, although they both knew the grin that her words caused.

As the assassin set about organizing his own swords he caught sight of his mother and grandfather preparing, restocking their weapons and ensuring that the other assassins were properly armed. The sky crackled, pulsing black then gold then crimson again, and the booming echo of Raven’s cackling washed over all of them, the sound certainly reaching the approaching Justice League.

Damian paid the scene no mind, creeping forward to the base’s training yard. He spotted a black streak near the base’s weakest point and unsheathed one of his machetes. The feel of Raven’s mouth was still warm on his lips and he smirked, ready to fight as he caught sight of a certain masked man.

_This was going to be fun._


	3. Chapter 3

He was still standing watch by the time dawn broke.

Raven lazily ran her tongue over her teeth as she strolled up next to him. Her eyes casually ran over his form, appraising and appreciative; the swordsman was lit up with the light of the sky’s hellfire, his blood-spattered skin highlighted orange and crimson. It made his olive eyes nearly shine gray and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Damian paid her no mind. His face was stoic, everything about him tense as he surveyed around them.

They hadn’t _won_ the battle to their standards; Batman was still alive, unfortunately, but most of the Justice League’s strongest had fallen. He spotted three of their bodies from his perch and nodded approvingly.

The sky let out a stream of hellfire, the magic slowly receding as day broke. His nose scrunched at the sight and his head tilted towards the demoness.

She ran a tongue over her teeth at his silent question. “The rune’s only good for six hours,” Raven said. A lazy smirk curled onto her lips and she aimed it Damian’s way, “While we demons enjoy a good quick ravaging, you mortals like to really lengthen out your… conquests.”

Raven smiled to herself at the pointed look Damian aimed her way at her phrasing. Not quite giggling, she let the tips of her pointed teeth show as she raised her face to the sky again. After a beat of silence the demoness took in a deep breath through her nose.

Damian raised a brow and Raven let it out through her mouth, a small puff of fire coming out with it. She swallowed the air in her throat and reached for her collar.

Neither mentioned how Damian watched the move; instead, Raven’s lashes fluttered open and she mused aloud, “There are plenty of other runes, you know.” She turned away from the sky, still feeling its lingering heat and undercurrent of magic that mingled so pleasantly against her skin. Her nails drummed against her pulse, “So many spells and enchantments… maybe even a potion or three that’ll help our goals in the–”

Damian’s brows furrowed as he immediately cut her off, “They are _my_ goals. You may think you’re safe, but don’t ever forget you’re just a tool for them.” At her impish smile, he growled out, “Nothing more.”

“I don’t know about _that_ ,” Raven mused. She lazily ran the pads of her fingers under her collar, where a particularly rough bite mark had yet to heal. A pale thumb pulled aside the fabric, showcasing the still-red skin for the world to see.

Damian glared at her and diverted his attention elsewhere, his face scrunching in annoyance at the (rather blissful) memory of how she’d gotten the mark. Olive eyes glanced up to her face as she leaned her elbow against his shoulder, taunting, “In fact, I’d wager that you rather enjoy my company. So much more than you’ll ever let on.”

He roughly shrugged her hand off his person, stubbornly going back to counting the bodies, “I didn’t offer my soul for your commentary, Demon.”

Raven snickered at his words. She ran a hand through her hair and lazily watched him for a few long seconds, the impulsive words slipping out confidently, “You’ll fall in love with me eventually, mark my words.”

“I’ll never.” His words were spat out, hostile but a half second too quick.

“Of course, _Syd Damian_.” Sly and impish, she curled up against him again. He went still as her lips touched just below his ear, “But, whether or not you admit your love we shall still… celebrate tonight?”

He rolled his jaw. Giggling at his tensing (and it _was,_ tensing, because Damian al Ghul would _never_ shiver when his lover’s lips brushed against his ear), she added, “It’s not everyday one destroys over half of the world’s superhero force.” Her amethyst eyes glinted near crimson in the shadows and Damian sucked in a breath. Damn this infernal demon…

Electing to ignore her, he turned his attention back to the sliver of sky, still roiling like magma under the light of dawn. Pale fingers gripped his chin and aimed his stare back to her. He sneered and Raven leaned up on her toes to kiss him.

His arm snaked around her waist and the swordsman’s stomach twisted at how quickly, how _fervently_ he kissed her back. Raven’s lips threatened to curl into a smirk, but she was far too focused on kissing him properly.

He bit her bottom lips and her hands fisted in his hair. Raven tugged when he bit her again, pulling away half an inch to snicker into the impossibly small space between them. Damian quieted her with another kiss. _Damn this demon._

Damn her back to the Hell she came from.


	4. Chapter 4

Damian was the picture of confidence as he looked over his carefully crafted plans; every potential misstep accounted for, every contingency implemented, every second of the next nine days mapped out to the dot.

Raven thought him a control freak, but it was necessary. Neither demon nor human alike could just waltz in and steal some of Trigon’s most meticulously guarded runes. The demoness he’d chained his soul to could probably swipe some of the more powerful of his plague-bringing potions without a hitch, but he had to be sure. Although, she should’ve been back by now.

Olive eyes glanced at the clock and then the dark sky, noting the sunrise was only a few scant hours away. The air in the room shifted and he stifled an annoyed sigh. Think of the devil and she shall appear…

Raven didn’t approach him and he didn’t turn around, but his head tilted at the sound of glasses clinking together. “Hey, Damian,” She sounded tired but relieved; the mission must have been a success. That familiar press of her powers filled the air again and all six tonics landed on the table, “Got those potions you wanted.”

The swordsman turned to look at her, taking in the still smouldering ends of her shawl and the way she ran her fingers through her hair, shaking out the ashes.

“Father’s bound to notice in a few hours,” She lazily mused to herself. Her amethyst gaze fell on Damian, “But I suppose that’s what you want?”

“My plans are my own, Demon,” His warning didn’t have as much bite as usual, so Raven decided now was the time.

“Here, then.”

Damian raised a brow as she tossed him a glass bottle, catching the tiny thing but keeping it at arm’s length. His eyes narrowed at the all-too-familiar scent that emanated off of it, taking a brief second to observe how it was corked by a dark red pyrope, bits of the gem used to accentuated the feather engravings and sparkle against the inky liquid within.

“With your plans and keeping Trigon occupied I’ll be gone a few days, so just spray it on something whenever you miss me,” Her fangs poked out as he glared at her teasing. Turning back to the table and silently tracing her future route back through Hell, she shrugged one shoulder, “It’ll be like I’m there with you.”

He snorted and simply placed the tiny bottle on the table, standing until they were shoulder to shoulder. Calculating their next plan of attack as he watched how the runes twitched on the table, Damian rolled his jaw, “I’ll treasure having some peace and quiet with you finally gone.”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Raven smirked as she turned to look at him, practically purring the words off her lips, “It’s okay to be jealous.”

His brows jumped a millimeter at her assumption and he finally met her gaze, incredulous, “I’m not jealous of Hell having to deal with you. Grateful for the peace, if anything.”

“Oh?” She curled a finger and the bottle of perfume was engulfed in her power, hovering in front of her. “You’re _sure_ you won’t mind not having all my attention for the next few days?”

“I thought you were the least narcissistic of Trigon’s mistakes.”

She laughed at his words, languidly reaching up and touching her palm to his cheek. Raven nudged Damian’s face her way, her smirk widening at the thin cracks of emotion that shone through him. The demoness levitated an inch in the air, curling not quite close enough to kiss his cheek.

Raven drawled, “Infuriating as you can be, I know I’ll miss you, _Syd Damian_.”

He sneered at her, shifting out of her grasp, “Are you expecting me to say the same?”

“I am.”

“And why is that? We both know you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side for as long as you’ve been here.”

“Because you’re locked in.”

He raised a brow and turned to her fully, “We both have missions that start tomorrow, Demon. I’m free to leave whenever I please.”

She laughed, poking the dip of his collar. Raven’s fingertips fiddled with the skin over his pulse, graced with a particularly rough scar, and she slunk closer, pressing a lazy kiss to the underside of his jaw. She tapped right above his heart, “You’re locked in alright. Riiiiight here.”

Pale fingers skipped down to press just below his stomach, her smirk turning into a full blown grin at his glare. She’d never _mention_ the flush of embarrassment that just barely darkened the tops of his cheeks, but she sure as hell would savor the sight. Raven tapped him again, “Locked in right here too.”

“Go to Hell, Raven.”

“Oh? That’s not what you were saying last ni–”

He cut her off but didn’t move her away, “Leave. Start your mission and do it right.” Trigon certainly could be distracted for an additional three hours than he planned for, _especially_ with how insufferable she could be.

Raven’s smile widened at their proximity and she kissed his chin, running her thumb over his dimple, exaggerated by his frown. The demoness’ voice was casual, as if they were talking about lunch plans and not the second step towards taking over the world, “And will my welcome back be as satisfying as my going away party?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, Damian tangled his fingers in her short hair and yanked her up to his face. Raven opened her mouth and he shot forward to steal a kiss, rough and full of reluctant longing. He growled against her lips, “Just don’t take too long.”

Raven snickered and kissed him again. Her nails thrummed over his chest. Teasing at the undercurrent of emotion that seeped out of him, her eyes gleamed red and she hummed out, “Locked in.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Prompts: 46. “Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.” / 10. Who picks up the other fireman style in a playful way?_

Raven let out a curious little hum as she strolled through Hell, her chest swelling at how every single demon she passed avoided her. Always the same with the less powerful: stay unseen and hide from confrontation. At the thought she wondered where her brothers were, a smirk on her lips as she considered whether or not she’d get a chance to defeat them again just for kicks.

She let out a whistle as she made her way to her father’s domain. A cerberus bounded up and greeted her, each of its heads letting out a growl as she scratched behind their ears. The dogs let out a whine as she strode past them, but Raven paid them no mind. Passing by the bleached skulls, decaying corpses, chained insurgents and the speckles of specters that zoomed across the rotting floor, she opened all four of her eyes to stare up at the staircase that led to phase one of her syd’s plan. 

The demoness took a second to bite back the indignation that came whenever she sighted the being that sired her. Shrugging her shoulders to force any annoyance off her features, she bounded up the steps. 

An unusual sight greeted her. Now on most occasions, her father would be hunched over in some way; many instances he had been looking over his carefully laid out plans for the Earth and all the life that inhabited it, sometimes he was over a set of runes and spells, calculating just how efficient he could jump between dimensions as he destroyed them, and other times she walked in on him making a statement to the lesser demons through a beating. 

Today he was simply sitting on his throne, silently drumming his gnarled fingertips in the eye sockets of the skull that held the weight of his hand. She knew that while the sky above Earth had long cleared up from her rune those pesky pockets of black magic kept opening and closing along the planet’s atmosphere. Her crimson eyes watched the portal in front of her father, showcasing all of the Justice League’s futile efforts to contain her destruction.

A grin split her lips; Damian’d be proud. The thought of how her syd would respond to such a success (both in planning out his next steps and ignoring his emotions when they were alone) brought a surge of mischief through her form; perching a hand on her hip, she impishly drawled out, “Well, well, well… Look who’s been busy.”

“Raven,” Trigon didn’t look up as she spoke, his attention on the residue from her latest antics. Justice League Dark was floundering with Wonder Woman being as injured as she was; without her presence, Zatanna’s leadership was as worthless as her spells and Constantine’s runes did nothing; Deadman’s magic could be troublesome if he had any stronger connection to his underworld, but the ghost was no issue as of now. The rest were so pitifully weak that he didn’t need to concern himself with any of them. 

A breath huffed out of his nose. While a planetary onslaught was always fun he didn’t dare let his daughter know of how well she had done, not with this lingering presence of some human connected to her. 

Raven strolled up to the base of his throne and Trigon glowered down at her, “What’s all this about?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and clicked her tongue. “Gotta be more clear.”

The demon straightened his back, making his shadow tower over her. His voice was a reverberating rumble through the room, “Any acquisition, let alone one that’s _mortal_ is beneath you.” The gold of his eyes glinted dangerously and he stood, skulls cracking under his feet as he strode until he was right in front of his daughter. 

He crouched down until they were face to face. A threat disguised as a reminder, “Any progeny of mine has to have higher standards.” 

Raven tilted her head, unamused. She raised her face proudly, “I’ve found a way to stay on the Earth, haven’t I? Just like you wanted.”

Trigon narrowed his eyes. The demoness smirked and nudged her chin towards one of the halls, a hint of pride in her features, “And now I need you to do something for me.”

“And what would that be?”

\--

Damian kept his face stoic as he stood in front of Trigon. 

Crimson fingers drummed along the skull’s eye sockets again, a sigh flowing through his lungs. Yes, he was the one who Raven was connected to but for him to come to his domain with _demands_ ; this mortal was far more idiotic than he’d first assumed. A blood-curdling smile formed on his lips as the demon briefly considered whether or not killing this man in front of his daughter would bring any additional entertainment.

Before he could capitalize, a moaning scream sounded just beyond the farthest pile of bones. Both tilted their chins towards the door as it opened, carrying in the echoing howls of the damned and the scent of a certain demoness’ perfume. 

Without taking her eyes off the beheaded cambion that she held, she lifted it up by its stringy hair and addressed her father, “I got the head. Brain death hasn’t set in yet but have you seen the--” Raven’s brows jumped, her steps faltering as she finally looked up and caught sight of her lover. 

Damian leveled a glare her way when Raven stopped, considering him for a moment. The door creaked out a ghastly moan as she let it slam shut behind her, the scheming possibilities that flew through her mind obvious on her face, _“Oh.”_

Eyes flicking to her father, her smile was forced now. “Whose idea was this?”

“Seems your mortal has some requests for me,” Trigon seemed affronted at the mere idea of anyone _commanding_ anything of him, if the intensity of his glare on Damian meant anything. The human sneered back and Raven suppressed a groan, knowing what that look in her syd’s eyes meant. Before he could dig himself a deeper hole she walked up in between them, tossing the cambion’s head towards her father’s chest.

“Well sorry, _Father Dearest,_ ” The demoness drawled, her voice equally full of venom. She roughly kicked the back of Damian’s knee and playfully ran her fingers through the human’s hair when he buckled. Raven let out a quiet chuckle and aimed a shit-eating grin Trigon’s way, “But this one’s mine.”

She easily hefted Damian up fireman style over her shoulders and turned back the way she came. The shadows playfully bounced around her as she promised, “Your plans will be carried out to your orders but he doesn’t die unless I say so.” 

She ignored her father’s scowl on her back and Damian’s incessant wriggling and nags for her to “Let him down this instant!” until she was back in her quarters. Her higher pair of eyes closed and the other two went back to the indigo that she’d gotten so used to having when he was around. 

He kneed her shoulder. Raven scoffed as she dropped him onto her lounging chair, her sour mood keeping her from admiring how tempting he looked on top of silk and skull fragments. Damian was immediately up, glowering down at her as he pointed a finger in her face, “How _dare_ you--”

She cut him off, the look on her face the most serious he’d ever seen, “You’re welcome for saving your life, _Syd Damian_.”

Something in her eyes made him hesitate and Raven leaned up until they were nose to nose. Desperation and --dare he say-- _concern_ were swimming in her impossibly small irises, her pupils blown wide with anger. Damian didn’t block her from poking his chest, now realizing the heat that clung to him from his brief time with Trigon. 

Raven let out a growl, “You may be my syd but know that you’re in _my_ domain now.”

It was a warning, softened by the way she brought a hand up to brush aside any embers that fell on him. Damian narrowed his eyes as she gripped his cheek, “There’s a reason mortals who encounter him don’t survive. It’s best you remember that.”

He scoffed at her, ignoring the flicker of hesitation as he slid out of her grasp. The assassin readjusted his belt, ensuring that all his weapons were in their proper place, “I still have business with him.”

“That’s why _I’m_ here,” Raven straightened her shoulders. At the hints of an argument still on his face, she pressed, “You feel the heat along your joints yet? Or the headache that comes when mortals breath Hell’s air for too long?”

Damian met her stare and she spat out, “Or that everything organic is slowing starting to melt? Your armor’ll do nothing if you’re dead inside it, my Syd.” 

The assassin didn’t outwardly react to her words, but Raven knew that he was listening. She licked her lips, “Do your business through me and you won’t get hurt. That’s what I’m here for, you know that.” 

Her grin softened somewhat; she let her eyes flick over him and the way he was haloed by the remnants of hellfire, “Unless you want that.”

Damian gave her a pointed look. He rolled his jaw and glanced away, considering whether or not he’d rather endure the death-bringing scratch of hellfire alongside her. A reluctant huff escaped him and he admitted, “Not until you’re back at base.”

Raven’s face brightened, “Oh? So you’re gonna leave this business to me?” She pressed up flush against his chest, pressing a self-satisfied kiss to his jaw. “Dare I say you _trust_ me, Damian?”

Olive eyes rolled but he didn’t push her away, “Don’t push it, Demon.”


End file.
